by Linda Warren
Brewster kept his word. He let Jonas run the farm without interference, but Jonas was worried about him. That was a new twist in Jonas’s life. He was now concerned for Brewster. The old man’s health was deteriorating. That was obvious from his pale skin and frail body. Jonas went each day to the house on the excuse of business, but he needed to see how he was doing. Brewster was hurting. He was hurting like hell, and Jonas couldn’t help him. Brewster had brought it all on himself.
Jonas was on the way to the house one morning, when Mrs. Duncan stopped him. She handed him a piece of paper. “This is Abby’s number and address,” she said. “Please, call her. She’ll listen to you. She won’t take any of my calls.”
“Mrs. Duncan, I’ve been through this with you and Brewster. Abby has to do this on her own. I can’t force her to come back here.”
“Just call her. She needs someone.”
Jonas fingered the paper.
“I’m her mother and I will never stop loving her.”
Jonas looked at her and saw the same hurt he saw in Brewster’s eyes. “I’m sure she’s aware of that,” he said gently. “But that love has received a severe blow. It needs to heal first.” Where those words had come from he had no idea, because he didn’t know a thing about love. He only knew he wanted all the hurting to stop.
Gail choked back a sob. “Call her, Jonas. I can’t stand the thought of her going through this alone.”
“I’ll think about it,” was all he’d say.
“Thank you,” she said, and walked to her car.
Jonas went into the house wondering if this nightmare was ever going to end. Brewster was in bed as he had been for the past few days. The nurse was taking his blood pressure.
Jonas sat down and twirled his hat in his hand. “How are you doing?” he asked, when the nurse had finished.
“Not good—even I know that,” he replied in a weak voice that seemed so at odds with his stronger character. “My days are numbered.”
Jonas realized that, too, and he couldn’t believe the sadness that filled his heart. He’d hated this man for so long, but Mick had always told him there was a thin line between love and hate. He now knew that to be correct.
“Everything going okay?” Brewster asked.
Jonas blinked. “Yes, everything’s fine, and as you know things slow down this time of year.”
“Maybe you ought to take some time off…go to Dallas.”
Jonas rubbed his thumb over his hat. Everyone had the same person on their minds—Abby. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t do what they were asking. Abby had to… Dammit, he was tired of using that excuse. If he wanted to see her, then…why couldn’t he? What was stopping him? The L word now had him by the throat, and he was either going to die loving her or—
Brewster’s voice penetrated his thoughts. “I want you to read something.”
Jonas had been lost in his own inner pain, and it took a while for Brewster’s comment to register.
“What?” he managed to ask.
He pointed to a paper that lay on his nightstand. “I had that drafted by my lawyer, and it’s running in the Hope Herald and several big newspapers across Texas.”
Jonas stood, placed his hat in the chair and picked up the paper. It was titled “A Good Man” and it told of Abe Duncan’s life at Brewster Farms. It told of his service, loyalty and honesty as an accountant. It was a moving story signed by Simon Brewster. Finally Brewster was telling the truth.
Jonas carefully laid the paper back in its place and took his seat. “Abby will be pleased.”
“I didn’t do it for her,” he muttered in his old gruff voice, then relented. “Well, not completely. I’m dying, Jonas, and before I meet my maker, I have to atone for a lot on this earth.”
Jonas had guessed as much. Simon Brewster had been a different man these past few weeks, and Jonas wished that Abby was here to at least get a glimpse of the man who was her father. That was asking a lot of her. But the wounds had to heal…eventually. Brewster, Mrs. Duncan and Abby couldn’t go on like this.
“And I want to talk to you.”
Jonas moved uncomfortably in his chair. “About what?”
“The accident.”
Jonas’s hand gripped his hat. “I think we’ve talked that one to death.”
“No, we haven’t. You don’t know the whole truth.”
“What truth?” Jonas asked in a guarded voice.
Brewster looked through the windows to the sky, as if he needed to see wide-open spaces. “My son…my son wasn’t the angel I made him out to be.” A slight pause, then he said, “He was in trouble all the time. He wouldn’t study or stay in school. He thought that since his father had money, the world was his playground. He spent eight years in college, and I finally had to buy his diploma.” He stopped. “That night we argued, and I told him if he didn’t marry the girl he was dating and settle down, I was going to disinherit him. He’d been drinking all day, and he blew up and ran out of the house before I could stop him. The last thing he said to me was I hate you.” He paused for a second. “His alcohol level was higher than that of any of the teenagers, but I had the reports destroyed.”
Jonas’s vocal cords closed up. He hadn’t expected this, and for a moment he was back in the body of that young boy who’d felt so lost and afraid.
“I hated you because you lived and he didn’t, and I took out my grief, my anger and my guilt on you. The truth is, the sheriff couldn’t do much to you. You were a kid in the wrong place at the wrong time, but I never let you believe that. I wanted you close so you could pay for my son’s death. I needed someone to pay.” He took a breath. “I drove you hard that first year and I treated you badly. I’m sorry for that, but I never broke your spirit. If there was any weakness in you, Jonas, I never found it. You became the man my son would never have been.”
Jonas was waiting for his anger to overtake him, but nothing happened. Why wasn’t he consumed with rage? This old man had used him unscrupulously to justify his own guilt. But all Jonas felt was a release. It was as if a steel band had popped around his heart and he could breathe normally for the first time in years.
He hadn’t killed Brewster’s son. No one had. It had been a horrible accident.
“I realize you don’t want anything from me,” Brewster added as an afterthought.
Jonas stood, his hat in his hand. “No, I don’t.”
“I’ve seen your accounts at the bank. You’ve saved just about every dime I’ve paid you over the past twenty years, except what you’ve spent on that motorcycle and your apartment and given to workers when they needed money. It’s grown into a hefty amount, so when I die I know you’ll want for nothing.”
Except for Abby, he thought.
“That leaves me the problem of what to do with Brewster Farms. My family’s nothing to brag about, but they’re all I have. And Abigail doesn’t want anything from me. She’s made that very clear.”
“Yes, she has,” Jonas had to admit, and he had to say something else. “What you do with Brewster Farms is up to you, because when you do…when you go…I’ll be leaving, too.” He could see that clearly. There would be nothing for him here—just a lot of bad memories. But now that the time for him to leave was at hand, he felt little joy.
He’d thought that everything would be complete if Abby was here. But Abby was never going to live here. Her home and job were in Dallas. He had to finally admit that he was living in a fool’s paradise.
“I figured as much.” Brewster sighed regretfully. “Would you do one last thing for me?”
“I’ll try.”
“I’ve made you executor of my will, and I’d appreciate it if you’d carry out my last wishes. That’s all I ask.”
Jonas swallowed. The thought of dealing with Edna, Jules and Darby was daunting, but he said, “I’ll do my best.”
Brewster took a ragged breath as if he was at peace. Of its own volition, Jonas’s hand reached out and touched the gnarled one lying on the bed.
Brewster’s hand gripped his with a strength that surprised him.
“That’s all you’ve ever given me,” Brewster said, his voice cracking on the last word. Jonas walked out of the room in silence.
He stood outside the door and brushed away a silly tear. He hadn’t cried in years and he wouldn’t now. He put his hat on his head and went back to his office.
ABBY HAD ARRANGED to meet Kyle at a restaurant. She wanted people around. She knew that she didn’t have to see him, but she wanted to make sure he understood that their marriage was over. He seemed to think that since he’d straightened out his life, she should fall back into his arms. She had to disabuse him of that idea.
She put on makeup and did her hair. Not for Kyle, but for herself. Holly was right. She’d been wallowing in self-pity. It was time to stop.
She walked into the restaurant and spotted Kyle at a nearby table. He waved and she went over. He tried to take her in his arms, and she backed away.
“Please, don’t touch me,” she said, more sharply than she’d intended.
Kyle held up his hands. “Sorry, it was just a reflex action.”
Abby sat down before he could pull out her chair. She stared at him briefly. He wore a dark blue suit and a matching tie and handkerchief. He was an impeccable dresser. That was one of the things that had attracted her to him. That and his blond hair, blue eyes and an athletic build. His attractiveness did nothing for her now. It was all superficial. She’d learned that the hard way. Underneath, Kyle had a temper that frightened her. Jonas also had a quick temper, but she’d never been afraid of him and she never would be.
“What would you like to drink?” Kyle asked.
He must have seen the shock on her face.
“It’s all right, Abby,” he said. “I’m not drinking, but I know you like to have wine occasionally. It won’t bother me. I can handle it.”
Abby linked her fingers in her lap. “I don’t drink anymore.”
Kyle lifted an eyebrow. “Since when?”
Since I met Jonas. “It’s just a choice I made,” she said. She saw the hope in his eyes and added, “It has nothing to do with you.”
“I see,” he said moodily, and asked, “What would you like to drink?”
Coke and peanuts.
Suddenly Jonas was controlling her thoughts, and she didn’t know why. Maybe it was the obvious contrast between the two men. Jonas had substance and character, and he didn’t need clothes or anything else to make him a man. Kyle was the complete opposite, and she wondered how she had ever thought she loved him. And she wondered why she’d put up with so much, trying to make that a reality. She answered her own question: foolish pride. She never liked to fail at anything.
“Abby?” Kyle tried again.
She collected her thoughts. “Tea, please.”
Kyle signaled the waiter and, after he left, said, “You look wonderful.”
She had to swallow the bitter taste in her mouth before she could say, “Thank you.”
“I’m so glad you agreed to see me.”
“You haven’t left me much choice.”
“I’m sorry for all the phone calls, but I wanted to apologize and I wanted you to see how I’ve changed. I’m working now…for your rival paper. I never miss my AA meetings.” He paused. “I’m so sorry I hit you, but I was drunk and I didn’t know what I was doing. The thought of you with another man made me crazy.”
The waiter placed iced tea in front of them, stopping conversation. Abby touched the cool glass with her fingers. “I know you’re sorry, but it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change the way I feel.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true,” she stated. “I don’t love you and I haven’t for a very long time.”
“You never gave our marriage a chance,” he said in a spiteful tone, and she knew the old Kyle was just below the surface. “It made me so angry when you wouldn’t have a child. It would have changed so many things.”
She knew she had to say some things he didn’t want to hear. “You thought I refused because I didn’t love you, but it wasn’t that, as I told you. A child should be brought into a solid family with love, happiness and stability.”
The way I was.
That thought was another jolt to her heart, and this time she couldn’t ignore it. Her parents had given her so much love, so much—
“We could have had those things if you had tried harder.”
His words had her full attention. “Excuse me?”
“Your job was all-important to you, and you had very little time for me, but you had time for all the other men at the paper.”
She didn’t know why she’d made the effort. Kyle hadn’t changed at all. She started to push back her chair.
He reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry, but you make me crazy. Oh, Abby, I love you and I miss you.”
She was never going to be free of Kyle unless she ended it right now. She slowly removed her hand. “We’ve been divorced for four months now. We didn’t have much of a marriage before that. So does that mean you’ve been celibate all this time?”
He drew back. “What?”
“You say that you love me and miss me, so I’m assuming that means I’m the only woman for you and that you haven’t been with anyone else.”
The tips of his ears turned red. “Well…”
“Who do you think you’re fooling? You slept with other women while we were married.” It was just a guess, but she had her suspicions.
His ears turned completely red, and her suspicions were confirmed. All those nights when he was out drinking, she’d wondered where he was. Now she knew.
“Abby.”
“No, Kyle, you listen to me. Our marriage is over…completely. Stop calling me and my friends. Tell your mother to stop calling, too. Our association ends now. Get on with your life because that’s what I’m doing.”
She stood and walked away.
ON THE WAY to her apartment, she stopped and bought a paper. She hadn’t read today’s edition. That was the trouble with being a reporter—she never had time to read.
She laid the paper on the seat and drove toward her apartment. She was glad she’d seen Kyle. That door was closed, locked and sealed for good. Now she could admit that one of the reasons she’d seen him was that she wanted to see if she could find any of the old Abby—the one who didn’t know she was Simon Brewster’s daughter. But that woman was gone…as was her love for Kyle. She now had to deal with the fact that she was Simon Brewster’s daughter. Somehow, someway…
She stopped at a red light and glanced down at the paper. “A Good Man” caught her attention and she picked it up. As she read, her whole body began to tremble. “Oh my God, oh my God,” she moaned, and tears poured from her eyes.
Cars began honking behind her, and she realized the light was green. She wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands, held the paper to her chest and drove on.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JONAS PACED IN HIS APARTMENT. He had made up his mind to call Abby and he didn’t know why it was so hard. She’d had enough time for the wounds to start to heal. If he and Brewster could find a common ground, then there was hope for them all.
Before his courage failed, he grabbed the phone and punched in her number. A feminine voice answered, but it wasn’t Abby’s.
“Hello, is anyone there?” the voice asked abruptly.
Jonas was about to hang up, thinking he’d dialed the wrong number, when the voice said, “Kyle, is that you? Abby should be at the restaurant by now, so why are you calling? You got what you wanted.”
Jonas slowly replaced the receiver and stared off into space. Abby was seeing her ex-husband. Why? Why would she do that? He remembered how angry she’d gotten when her mother had suggested she hadn’t tried hard enough to make her marriage work.
He went into his bedroom, pulled out his suitcase and packed. He knew Dallas was his destination. He had to go see Abby. He shou
ld have gone weeks ago, but he’d wanted to give her some time. Later his stupid pride held him back. Now nothing would keep him away from her. All it took was a little old-fashioned jealousy, and his pride went right out the window.
He couldn’t leave immediately. He had to wait for a flight to Dallas out of Brownsville. It was the fastest way. He told Stuart where he was going, and Stuart thought it was great. Brenda and several of Abby’s friends were worried about her. He debated whether to tell Brewster, and then decided not to. He didn’t want the old man to expect too much. Maria had Jonas’s cell number in case anything happened while he was gone.
ABBY WALKED INTO HER APARTMENT feeling numb. She held the paper in her hand. She vaguely noticed that Holly was there.
“I left my earrings over here the other day and I came to…” Holly’s voice trailed off as she noticed Abby’s expression.
“Abby, what’s wrong?”
She handed Holly the paper. Wow, Holly mouthed as she read.
“I’ve been working on the Coleman piece for two days. I haven’t been in to the office. Why didn’t someone tell us?”
Holly shrugged. “It’s a big paper, and I’m sure the decision to print this came from high up. Someone who didn’t connect the story to one of its reporters.”
Abby sank onto the sofa. “I can’t believe how many nice things Mr. Brewster said about my father.”
“Yeah,” Holly said as she continued to read. “Seems like he’s reaching out to you.”
Abby didn’t say anything. She was locked somewhere between the little girl that was Abe Duncan’s child and the grown woman who knew herself to be Simon Brewster’s daughter.
Which one was she? Would the real Abigail Duncan stand up? Please.
“I’m sorry.” Holly put down the paper. “I’ve got to run. I have a late date with Brent, the accountant. That’s why I was looking for my earrings.”
